


Of Rain and Blood

by Colbatros



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Sadstuck, Theyre both adults and shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colbatros/pseuds/Colbatros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic where John and Dave need to deal with troubling news when they learn that their daughter Casey has gotten into trouble, because of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johndavee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=johndavee).



A soft creak muffled between the piles of half emptied boxes. His head rose above the chaos, his black hair a mess after a long day of moving heavy furniture. After all, he had a lot of strength, despite what his lanky frame. Those old brown couches and wooden beds were no match for the powerful and brave John. But enough about tales of power, his damsel in distress was wanting for him at the door. Carefully working his way through the high towers of carton, bending his back and legs in angles nobody would have imagined him capable of, he finally ended up nose to nose with the quiet fellow in front of the slightly opened door.

-Well, there you were! he greeted him, a hand on his shoulder inviting him inside. Most of the house’s rooms were empty, the light floor covered in a thin layer of dust, except for the living room which was overflowing with boxes and luggage. Clothes were littered all over the place, some hanging down from dirty old bins, others thrown in a pile here and there. The grey rug, barely visible under the wide array of soft and squeaky toys threatening to make people fall at every corner, the blank walls covered in still visible rectangles of filth where the previous owners hung their frames, the big fireplace enthroned in the middle of the room, still filled with black ashes from all its preceding uses; the whole condominium could have been perceived as just some crummy old apartment not even rats would want to occupy, but John felt the house had a lot of potential, if he was ready to work on this project.

He dragged the hardly mobile individual behind him before pushing him inside the kitchen. He ran his fingers over the cold counter, collecting a fair amount of dirt under his lengthy digits. He swept the dust off his hands and rested his elbows on the surface.

-Dave, you can drop the box already.

The blond haired man looked surprised all of a sudden, even though most of his face was hidden between his big black shades. He glanced down at the tiny box he was clenching between his hands, took a deep breath before finally setting it on the counter, right in front of John. The latter could almost smell the tension in the other adult’s body, just by the way his back was unusually straightened up. It wasn’t really much of a shock to him, though, he was used to seeing Dave in a weird mood after long car trips. He just blamed the motion sickness on it, as he would always remain strangely quiet each time he had to spend too much time in movement. John pulled the curtains opened, letting the rays of this summer’s sun bathe the entire room in a comforting light. Maybe that would brighten mister sourpuss’ face a bit, hmm?

Still no change. Defeated, John sighed loudly, before heading towards the arch that separated the kitchen from the dining room. But he didn’t have the chance to make more than four steps before being rammed by a tiny and fragile figure, squeaking a cheerful “Daddy!” in his tummy. He wrapped his arms around her head, burying her face deeper in his shirt. The little girl was no older than at least 6 years – or 6 years, 2 months and 22 days as she would always correct -, her chestnut hair pulled back in a high ponytail with a green ribbon. She hugged John so hard he almost ran out of breath. Then, when she finally released him, she immediately ran towards Dave and clasped his leg with her little hands. Still under shock, he seemed lost for a second, before he finally realised what was happening and lowered himself to her level. The young girl then threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose in his neck, giving her beloved dad plenty of noisy kisses.

-Casey, I hope you unpacked your boxes and cleaned your room now, John tried scolding, but it was no use. The overjoyed daughter was simply unstoppable, drowning the confused Dave with more affection than anyone could ask. He lifted Casey on his shoulder, her head almost touching the low ceiling, her giggling filling the almost empty room.

-Boeing Dave 77 ready for takeoff, please fasten your seatbelts, this may be a bumpy ride.

And off they went, running throughout the apartment, Casey’s laugh echoing through the whole house. Despite Dave’s loud running, which might have annoyed the neighbours below, John couldn’t help but watch the scene before him, resting back on the wall, failing to hold a chuckle. When he heard the front door open, he dashed towards the entrance and almost threw himself over the banister. Dave and Casey could still be clearly heard from up there.

-You better be back before diner, or else I’ll-

It was no use. Between his heartfelt laugh, there was no way his order could have been taken seriously. His sides starting to hurt, he just retreaded back to the kitchen, where the small box of kitchenware still sat there alone on the counter.

No doubts about it, today was going to be a very good day.


	2. The Rainstorm

-Tomorrow’s forecast, to finally change with this week continuous downpour of rain, we’ll finally have a little bit of sun with 11% of light precipitations, as well as-

-Okay that’s just bullshit, Dave grunted as he stole the remote for the small television from John’s hands, who barely put up a fight against him, despite trying really hard to show that he was offended by his actions. He just whined faintly, like a puppy, and buried himself deeper in the soft couch. With one hand still on the armrest, he gently played with the blonde locks between his fingers, scratching ever so slightly at the surface of his scalp. Dave was spread all over the sofa, including John, whom he used his lap as a cushion to rest his head. He lifted one arm to point the remote towards the TV and change channels, zapping through boring drama series and cliché romantic movies. Once in a while, he would tilt his head in another direction to indicate to John where he wanted his hand to pet him. To him, he was nothing more than a big lazy cat who only desired affection whenever he felt like it, hiding behind a stoic façade he was constantly trying to keep up. But, with the right movement of his fingers, John was always able to break down that wall and access Dave’s tender core.

As the fair-headed man finally stopped switching through channels, the front door quietly shut closed. Whoever was entering the house was trying their best not to make their presence known, but the happy sound of the chime automatically gave away their position. Dave didn’t even bother looking up to see who was at the entrance - not like it would have changed anything, from his point of view all he could see was a big pile of nearly empty boxes and a giant potted plant - , but John’s glance immediately shifted from the screen to the door. In the dim light, nothing but a small silhouette could be seen. The tiny figure stood still, not moving a single hair, as if caught committing a crime.

-Casey? he inquired, spontaneously assuming that the person in the entrance couldn’t have been anyone but their daughter. Seeing as he received no answer, he continued: “Are you all right?”

Even in the shadows, John could clearly see the little girl’s head lower, most probably in shame. His legs suddenly tensed up. Dave, oblivious to the scene, was still focused on the show displayed on screen.

A quiet, vulnerable sob resonated in the hollow room. As Dave finally stood up, it grew louder, both in volume and intensity. Both the fathers immediately ran towards Casey, John crouching to meet her face to face while the other rested his hand on his shoulder.

Her face was wet with warm tears, and not only was it distorted by despair, it was also covered in bruises and dried blood. There were dozens of small scabs under her nose and around her eyes, and two small cuts divided her innocent visage. John cupped his hands around her face, his own forehead almost touch his daughter’s. His breathing was heavy, and he could feel Dave’s anger just by the way his fingers clutched around the muscles of his shoulder. Both speechless, they accompanied the small girl towards the kitchen, where the shorter of the two reached for a cloth as the other sat Casey on a chair at the table. “What happened?” were obviously the first words that came to John’s mouth, as he wrapped his arms around her frail body and tightened his grip, feeling her fragile frame shiver under him. She was still weeping softly, her tears leaving a wet spot on her dad’s shirt. He didn’t really expect an answer from her. He just wanted to let her know that he was worried. That, as a father, he wanted her to feel safe.

When he finally released her from his embrace, Dave arrived with a moist cloth and washed the blood from her skin. Casey whimpered and cringed whenever he would press too strongly over a fresh wound.

-I want you to tell me what happened, right now, he said in a voice that he wanted authoritative. He knew he could be perceived as cold and distant, even by his own daughter, just by his tone or the way he would constantly hide behind his shades, but right now all he cared about was that his little girl was safe. And who dared fuck around with his baby.

Casey hiccupped for a bit, her eyelids shot, before she finally broke down in more tears, explaining her story in between each spasm;

-There was a group of girls in my class… Mrs. Andrews told us to draw our family tree on a coloured paper… When they saw that one mine, I-I had two daddies, they… They made fun of me, they laughed and called me names. I had to eat alone at lunch. I was alone all day… I was really, really sad, and when I came back home, there were boys on the street, they started making fun of me too. But I ran! I ran fast, b-but not fast enough, they were really fast too, and when they caught up, they stared beating me up, they… They kicked me, they punched me, they really hurt me daddy…

Dave stayed still for a moment, one of his hands violently shaking in anger, before throwing himself around Casey, burying his in her upper back, his black shades falling behind the chair. John sighed loudly, his claw clenched, before joining in the embrace, his arms wrapped around both Dave and Casey. Her tears were still flowing, her bloodied cheeks pressed against her taller daddy’s forehead. They both hardened their grip, not wanting to let go of their daughter, who they felt they had abandoned today by letting the world harm her in such a way, for something she had no control over. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve it in the slightest, yet what they feared all these years would occur happened to her. What they tried to forget when they both signed the adoption papers, what they brushed off as unfounded insecurities when they brought the one year-old baby in their car, what both their parents warned them about, but they ignored, it had finally happened. They were trying to compensate for failing as her protector by not letting her fly away. Her guardians, who she had trusted all those years, had failed her. Hidden in Casey’s back, Dave let the tears flow; there was no point in keeping his shame inside of him. He felt John’s grasp around him tighten, and it was as if the world around him started to fall apart.

Tonight was going to be a very long night.


	3. A Sunshine Through the Clouds

John was lying wide awake in the bed when Dave finally turned off the lights in the bathroom and joined him under the covers. They were both silent, avoided each other’s gaze even though everything was blurry in the darkness of the room. Even though they had pulled the curtains away from the window, little to no light entered the bedroom; only faint shadows appeared now and then in front of the glass, probably the trees shaking wildly outside in the midst of the rainstorm. Now and then, the room would suddenly illuminate brightly as soon as lightning would pierce through the night, ripping the black skies apart. The air was humid and heavy.

The bed squeaked when Dave turned around to face the wall opposite of John, who kept still, looking at his bare back. He was hunched in a ball, kicking away the blankets at his feet. He groaned loudly in his pillow.

John ran a finger down his spine, sending shivers through Dave’s body, who tried to wiggle away from his touch, to no avail. His attempts of escaping almost amused him, but nothing right now seemed to be able to bring a smile to his face. His eyes were still reddened, his face still bearing the scars left by the recent events. His nails dug a bit too deep in Dave’s back, who released a high-pitched whine to warn him not to hurt him again. He, too, was in no mood for games.

-We’ll have to do something about this, you know.

Pause. His hand froze in his back, awaiting an answer from the blonde man. It took him a few moments to mumble a response at his direction;

-Don’t you think I already know?

He was right. This wasn’t going to be easy, they both were aware of that, but they still had to fix things, somehow. Together, at least.

-Maybe this isn’t the right place for us, Dave, the right place for _her_.

-This place is perfect, no matter what you can say about it. You know we can’t just switch houses every time something bad happens in one town. It’ll just fuck her up, fuck all of us up.

John sighed. He turned around, his back against Dave’s, trying to comfort himself with his body heat.

-I just don’t know what we’re doing wrong.

-We’re not doing anything wrong, he growled, we’re not the ones to blame. The little shits that beat her up are. I know I feel like I gave up on her, and so do you, but we can’t cry over this forever. It won’t help her. There’s nothing we can do about those kids, absolutely nothing.

John turned his head slightly, furrowed his eyebrows.

-So you mean that we should concentrate on Casey instead?

-Absolutely, Dave barked.

Maybe he had a point. Moving again wouldn’t change anything; there would be dumbasses in every city. And trying to talk sense into those children would be pointless. He buried his head in his pillow, overwhelmed.

-We’re going to love the shit out of her, because at least that’s going to change something. If she knows she has people backing her up, at least she won’t feel alone and powerless against other people. We need to step up our shit, get ourselves back up and face this like adults.

John smiled through his pillow. He felt Dave’s foot brush against his leg.

-So that’s our plan? he asked in a soft voice.

-Yeah.

Another bolt of lightning light up the room, revealing the peaceful faces of the two men, both relieved that they finally agreed on what to do next. The apartment building rumbled, oscillating in the strong winds of the storm that washed up the streets outside. The bedroom was still dark afterwards, but at least there was a newfound light in their heart, a spark of confidence, of bliss that tried to reach out to their daughter in the next room. They were ready to help her, to be her guardian angels in this fight of David against Goliath. At least now the chances were evened. They were prepared to move sky and earth, just to protect their little girl, to make her feel like she was appreciated in this world where she was born undesired. A muffled chuckle broke the silence.

-I love you, John, Dave finally murmured, his body still facing the wall.

Pause. His face brightened in his pillow.

-I love you too.

Despite the struggles, despite the growing rain outside, tonight was going to be a good night.


End file.
